Run

August 22, 2025, by A. U. Crawford

“What world is this?” 

Familiar double explosions rock an unfamiliar circular stone room. The Shifting Sword dutifully hangs from your hip and chimes. 

They come.

Continue reading →

Inheritance

August 4, 2025, by A. U. Crawford

James’ mother’s purple bowler hat made a popping sound from atop his head as he jabbed a pencil repeatedly at the scattered bottles on the table. However only the small squarish green one would wobble slightly. Continue reading →

Fear

August 3, 2025, by A. U. Crawford

Darkness pushes in on Sarah’s eyeballs as she shuffles forward with her arms outstretched. Groping for a wall, a door, anything. Her shin collides sharply with a solid piece of furniture and she bites her lower lip to keep from crying out. Continue reading →

Itch

February 24, 2024, by A. U. Crawford

Henry took his heart down from the shelf and blew the dust off. He shook it, checked the fluids, then put it back on the shelf. Continue reading →

Fire

April 18, 2023, by A. U. Crawford

Despite the low crackling of dying embers, the morning was quiet. The fire trucks had come and gone, along with the news vans, and the nosy neighbors he had to avoid.

All that was left was Frank in a bath robe, and that stupid cat. Continue reading →

Alone

August 29, 2018, by A. U. Crawford

Frank watched a plane pass overhead and imagined someone looking down at him in his speedo hugging himself. Winter bit into his joints and the heated pool beckoned him, but he hadn’t gotten the okay to jump in yet. Continue reading →

It came from the kitchen

August 17, 2018, by A. U. Crawford

Poppy entered the living room, as composed as a wet cat could, and sat at Daisy’s bare feet. It took a while for Daisy to notice, but Poppy continued to stare ‘till she did. Continue reading →

Death

March 25, 2016, by A. U. Crawford

“The rod cannot touch the Earth except through my flesh,” Orobosa’s Nigerian voice was deep and heavy. Continue reading →